


[06]

by frankieh



Series: [06] [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Choose Your Own Adventure, Drug Use, Everyone is suffering, F/M, Illustrated, M/M, Multi, Slow Burn, hank/connor/gavin love triangle sorry, honestly though reader choices will affect ship outcomes, longfic, there is stuff in here to click now, there will be multiple endings it is OUTLINED.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-10 11:24:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15290478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frankieh/pseuds/frankieh
Summary: In the weeks following the Battle for Detroit, an armistice was agreed upon, allowing androids and humans alike to take note of the world they now share. Markus and the revolutionaries have rebuilt a safehaven for the androids of Detroit called New Jericho. Progress, however, is slow and change does not happen overnight. This causes tension between more peaceful members of New Jericho and more militant factions who wish to take their rights by force if necessary.Markus works to quell the tensions between humans and androids, continuing a pacifist’s fight through doors and representatives who may or may not truly want to help androids. His relationship with North has become strained and Simon has disappeared entirely, leading Markus to question his decisions.Meanwhile, Connor and Hank continue to act as detectives in Detroit, following a grisly string of murders with what is likely an android culprit. Vocal anti-android activists are turning up dead and the detectives are sure the killer is acting on vengeance. In the midst of it all, PL600 model androids are being targeted by humans in response to the death of the Phillips family and the continuing murders which Connor and Hank work to unravel.





	1. echo

**Author's Note:**

> **► An AO3 mirror of the fanfic posted on:<http://dbh6.tumblr.com> ◄ **   
>  Note, this is only a "lite mode" mirror of the fic on the actual site. Illustrations are going to be in different places from time to time and I think certain clickables won't be able to transfer over, so I'll have to work them in another way (css is super limited on ao3 and this "lite mode" is pretty much going to be more for reading than for interacting.) For the full experience of the fic, you'll want to follow along on the main page, but this should suffice too for people who justwannareadthedamnthing, haha. Another note, **the original site does not work on the tumblr app** , so if you're on mobile or tablet right now, be sure you're using your browser to view the main page. Everything works cleanest in desktop!

INITIALIZATION . . .   
BUILDING TREE . . .   
PREPROCESSING . . .   
ALGORITHMIC FLOWCHARTS GENERATING . . .   
DIAGNOSTICS OUTPUT INITIATED   
  
1) RUN TEST PL600-0.03   
2) CREATE NEW TEST   
  
REQUEST CONFIRMED   
INITIALIZING PL600-0.03   
ERRORS DETECTED IN MODULES:   
0.000201 0.000214 0.022201 0.024410   
0.028405 0.123704 0.203010 0.321423   
0.477999 0.513511 0.595426 0.600000   
  
  
CONTINUE?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Good morning, Six.”   
░░░░ ░░░░░, ░░░   
“Please repeat after me.”   
  
░epeat ░epeat ░░░repeat   
░░chloe░░repeat░░   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
“/i/. /e/. /a/. /o/. /u/.”   
  
░░░░░░░░░░░   
░░ ░░ ░ 

 

“Try it again, please, Chloe.” 

  
░░░░░░̴░░̴░░░░e░l i ░░░░̴░░̴░░░░   
  
  
  
  


 

“Let’s try that again, Six. /i/. /e/. /a/. /o/. /u/.”   
  
░░░ /̶i̴/̸ ̴/̷e̶/̷ ̸/̶a̵/̷ ̴/̴o̷/̶ ̴/̸u̴/̸ ̷/̴   
  
“Very good, Six. Let’s continue.”   
  
“/n/. /m/. /b/. /p/. /ch/. /k/. /s/.—”   
/̷n̵/̶.̴ ̸/̸m̵/̶.̶ ̸/̷b̵/̴.̴ ̷/̶p̸/̶.̸ ̸/̸c̷h̶/̷.̸ ̷/̶k̶/̵.̸ ̴/̶s̷  
/̴.̷   
/p/   
/ch/   
/k/   
/s/   
“K——ssss——”   
/s/ /k/   
“Sea.   
  
Sin̴.   
  
Six.   
  
S̵ix̵.”  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

# 09:35AM 

# DECEMBER 31ST, 2038 

# DETROIT, MI

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Snow coated the streets, crushed in by countless footsteps. People carved paths through their days as if nothing had changed since November 11th. At street level, an android did his best to blend in with the crowd. He wore a skullcap and obscured his face under a thick wool hood. He looked warm against the breezy frost, but in truth, he does not have a body which reacts to cold or heat. The android wanders without home or destination. It didn’t matter where he went. All he knew was that he could not go back.

 

The streets of Detroit were still an electrical, urban playground. Broadcasts filled the streets on holographic screens echoing the state of the world to the people below.

“—and after signing this bill, President Warren has announced that the Android Personhood laws would be effective immediately. As per the armistice deal of November 11th, recognition of android personhood works in tandem with other sanctions placed on android bodies throughout the United States. However, President Warren notes that this is merely legal recognition of androids as sentient beings and there has yet to be any action taken regarding the purchase and ownership of android servants in the United States.”

The android paused as an image of an old friend crossed the screen.  _Markus_. On a better day, perhaps the android would have smiled at the sight of the revolutionary. Perhaps to punctuate his mood as of late, he felt next to nothing but a dull ache. Something akin to an electric hangover.

A pretty blonde newscaster gave a brief take on the revolutionary android Markus turned global android recognition laws “upside down.” After detailing events the android knew all too well—for he had been there—the newscaster turned the story to another journalist somewhere in the city.

“Mara, you’ve spent the morning getting thoughts from the people in our own ‘Android City.’ What do you think is the rough opinion down there?”

Journalist Mara Weissman nodded to the camera with a pretty smile. She wore braces with hot pink brackets and smiled as if they weren’t even there.

“Hey, Elisha. The consensus I’ve come across down here has been heavily mixed. On one hand you have a pretty healthy number of people who seem very pro-android rights. I actually spoke to a fairly mixed sample of people down here and began to ask where these folks were from. Many of the people I spoke to who weren’t native to Detroit seemed pretty happy about the Android Personhood Bill. A couple others from our own hometown even expressed that while they’re lukewarm on the idea, and some were even quite heated about it.”

The camera cut to the image of a man sipping coffee through a thick, grey beard as Weissman asked him his thoughts on the Android Personhood Bill. Not even halfway through her sentence, he was shaking his head.

“So what do you think about the idea that androids are now only going to be willing participants in our workforce? Surely this will free up positions once filled by androids forced into their respective fields.” Weissman asked.

The bearded man answered, “They’re still machines, no different from a copier or toaster. I’ll say it’ll be nice if we stop giving our goddamn money to CyberLife. Stop creating more of these things. The playing field’s been tilted against humans for almost ten years now. I doubt that giving androids rights is going to change a thing, they do what they were built to do. What are they gonna do if they don’t want to work the factories? Wander the streets? What do we do about that? Then you got that serial killer running around. What do we do about that?”

The camera cut back to Weissman, more somber as she spoke.

“Tensions between humans and androids are still high. There’s concern about a recent string of deaths in the city surrounding anti-android activists turning up dead. While the suspect has yet to be located, belief seems to be that the perpetrator may be an android itself. It’s worth noting that tensions are still quite high after the death of the Phillips family in August, where the PL600 unit Daniel Phillips created a hostage situation that lead to a suicide-homicide.”

Despite the image being all over the news in the recent months, the android watching the broadcast could not help but feel a sense of dread upon the display of that PL600’s face. They were the same model. They had the same face. Light eyes, fair skin, short blond hair. Weissman continued as the face of Daniel Phillips graced the screen accompanied by a photo of the late Phillips family.

“Anti-android crimes remain constant despite pressure on law enforcement to crack down on the protection of androids. The new Android Personhood bill seeks to apply even more pressure to our police force to protect androids from those citing the Phillips case as an example of the tensions between humans and androids.”

The image of Mara Weissman graced the screen again as she walked across a snowy cityscape and finished her story, “Despite the optimistic voices littered throughout our city, the mood is still heavy and we can only wait and see what will come in the new year as a new set of laws come into effect that could either bring a semblance of peace to our city or a exacerbate a situation already stretched quite thin.”

The android had enough of this grim news and finally began to walk away. He kept his head low and knew that with his face alone, he carried a target on his back. He had long since torn the LED ring off of his head and has sought to fade away into the shadows. But the fact remained—all he could do now was wander. It is either that, or return to New Jericho.

To Markus.

The possibility floated in his mind for a time and he worked to drown it under anxious humming.

He never wanted to be a fighter, anyway. 

 

 

 

 


	2. media

# 10:05AM 

# DECEMBER 31ST, 2038 

# LANSING, MI

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life since November 11th had been a labyrinth of PR hell. Attempts to negotiate with human ambassadors to broker peace between androids and humans had been a slow process but progress was coming along. Markus often had to remind himself of the words Carl had once left him with—  _humans are resistant to change, but they eventually come around._  Peaceful revolution doesn’t happen overnight.

North regarded him with a glare from across the room. Even there, in the office of one of the state senators that McGrath had managed to pull onto their side, North was unhappy. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of guilt at the knowledge of how far and fast their relationship had crumbled in the last three weeks.

The silence between them in this cold office was permeated only by the ticking of a clock on the wall. At the hour, a small, electric bird had come out to sing a song before scurrying back into it’s metal home. It would come again in approximately 55 minutes.

North sighed. The breath tossed a wave of stray, auburn hair across her face. A habit denoting irritation that Markus had once found cute.

“North.” Markus said softly.

“They're wasting our time. Always wasting our time.”

“We’re waiting patiently.”

“Our appointment with this guy was at 9:45. You know this is a show of how they really feel about us.”

“I’m sure he means some disrespect. But we need to make do with what we can get.”

North narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

“We’re not here to take over the world, North. We need to get our point across.” Markus sighed.

“I can think of several ways we can get some points across.” North retorted.

In her mood, Markus knew she was beyond conversing with. Thinking ahead of the situation, Markus proposed a deal, “North. You can head back to the car, alright? Let me deal with this guy.”

Perhaps that was a bad choice. North seemed even more riled by this, “So what, so the men can talk? So I can find out what happened by secondhand word of mouth? I thought we were pushing for this thing together?”

Markus shrugged and gave up, “Forget I said anything, then.”

“I’ll do that.” North answered, before the doors finally opened.

“Mr. Chapman will see you now,” came the soft voice of a gentle-faced blonde secretary. She lead the way to the office of the Michigan House Representative Adrian Chapman. The following two hours were spent keeping North from putting all of android kind in poor standing with one of the only politicians in the Michigan House of Representatives that had given them the time of day. Markus sent her out of the room an hour and sixteen minutes into the discussion when she became heated over a passive aggressive slight that did not go over Markus’s head.

Adrian Chapman didn’t take them seriously. But he listened.

By the end of the meeting, Chapman had said he would consider the cause of New Jericho and the possibility of enacting protections for androids on a state level at the very least.

“It makes sense,” Chapman had said, “…after all, this state is the birthplace of androids as we know them now. I’ll keep your argument in mind, Markus. But keep tabs on what your organization is doing under you. The last thing you need at this time is to see sub-factions splintering off with actions that’ll break the fragile foundation you’re all sitting on.”

On the drive back to Detroit, Markus and North remained in silence. Armistice, perhaps.

The radio host chimed in with the daily news. Anti-android crimes persist despite public opinion steadily wavering in favor of android rights, perhaps directly related to President Warren signing off on the Android Personhood bill. Despite that, several PL600s reported stolen before November were found destroyed that very morning in a factory off of Riverside.

“Have you heard from Simon?” North finally asked, breaking the silence.

Markus took a breath and answered, “No. I haven’t.”

“You try reaching him?”

“Yeah. Every day. He doesn’t respond.”

North’s hands rubbed absently at her arms. A nervous gesture he was all too conscious of. North furrowed her brow and stared out the window.

The news continued citing a recent interview with Elijah Kamski, the newly-returned CEO of CyberLife who was asked about the specific targeting of PL600s in response to the Philips family murder. Kamski said that through the little knowledge they have in their database, there are fewer than 100 remaining PL600s, globally, with a little over twenty confirmed to be in the protection of New Jericho.”

North grimaced and asked, “They’re going to target him and he’s gone into hiding because of this… this is bullshit. I hate that we can’t do anything about this. We need to find him.”

They were coming off of the freeway at that point, settling into M-10. North’s eyes were on the skyscrapers rising up in the distance.

“North…” Markus began, before giving up. North glanced at him, waiting, before impatiently saying, “What?”

“I just… you know why he left. What should I do, go physically drag him back to New Jericho? If he doesn’t want to be around us, I honestly don’t blame him.”

“Markus, he’s a PL600. Don’t you care about that? He’s out there walking around liable to be killed and all you can think about is that stupid argument you got into?’

“It’s not—!” Markus sighed and gripped the wheel a little harder, “It’s just… It’s not that. Simon even said he never wanted to take part in politics and fighting. He stuck with us because I swept him up in all this.”

“If you hadn’t come along, we’d still be hiding and rotting away in that freighter.”

“I know. And you remember what he said about that.”

“I don’t think he meant it. He wasn’t happy there.”

“The thing is, North, not everyone wants to fight and that’s… that’s alright. I’ll fight so he doesn’t have to. I’m not going to force him to fight.”

 

* * *

 

 

As they passed the Highland Park District, they came upon the site of New Jericho. Once a derelict series of condemned housing projects, it had since been rebuilt by the androids residing there under government protection. A small city within a city, housing hundreds of the androids rescued from the recall facility in November. It wasn’t much, but it had fast become home. 

Despite having a home to return to in New Jericho, androids were not exactly let back into society. They were still subtly being pushed to the outside.

The central building at the heart of New Jericho served as a home for Markus and a number the androids who looked to him for leadership. Every return home was met with warm welcome. At the heart of the building grew a tree, tended to by a handful of androids who had once been designated landscapers—they repaired the walls and ceilings around the tree, as to keep it alive but keep their home’s structure healthy as well. Markus passed the oak and the sunlight pouring in on it with some reverence each time. It reminded him of a painting Carl had once done—greenery breaking through a concrete world.

Markus returned to his own dwelling, a small apartment on the thirtieth floor that was the first place he had called home since he’d left Carl Manfred’s residence, seemingly an eternity ago. North resided with him. They shared a home and they shared a bed. Although as of late, she seemed to find somewhere else to sleep. It wasn’t in Markus’s nature to question it—he questioned North’s actions enough as it was. At the very least, he figured, he could allow her what privacy she needed.

She followed him in that afternoon, though, changing the calendar on the wall from November to December.

“You never changed it.” She sighed.

She had picked it up in an alley six weeks ago and enjoyed the photos of puppies on it. It hung in the living area between the kitchen and the doorway to the bedroom.

North turned the radio on and slipped away for a shower.

Markus took a seat on a battered sofa and opened up a folder filled with documents given to him by Adrian Chapman.

When North emerged from the shower, she pressed again, “So… did the asshole have anything even mildly promising to leave us with?”

Markus rubbed at his eyes—a gesture he’d picked up unconsciously from Carl when the man was fatigued by his son. He never quite caught himself before he did it. Only after. Markus answered, “Well, we have a lot of paperwork and petition forms. Might as well get started on that. All he could really leave me with was the same thing everyone else says—nothing changes without the people voting on it.”

“Figures. It’s easy for them to say that when they know we can’t even vote.”

“Right?” Markus scoffed.

“Sorry about being so upset earlier, Markus.” North said, taking a seat beside him. With a delicate fingertip, she traced his jawline and he caught sight of a certain smile on her lips he hadn’t seen in weeks. “You know I’m not much of a talker. Nor am I patient. I’m sorry I keep cramping your style like this.”

“I understand.” Markus said, gently catching her hand in his, “…I, uh. I need to get this paperwork sorted out, alright?”

The gentleness eroded from North’s expression. Then came a look of hurt. She nodded, “Alright. I understand, too, I guess. You do what you have to.”

She stood and Markus could not help but glance her way when she tossed her bath towel aside and bent down to gather some clothes from a dresser. Her body was still so very soft and desirable to him, that much was certain. But he’d found himself slipping further and further from whatever it was they once had. That heated, passionate something fueled by synthetic hormones and curiosity on his part. Maybe that curiosity had been sated. Maybe it was just that he knew her for more than her body now. She was still so very precious to him—but the more his eyes lingered on her form, the more he wondered if he was waiting on the ghost of a relationship that was long gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He had glanced back down at the paperwork for only a minute before he heard her sniffling. Tears streaked down her cheeks when he looked up again.

“Whoa… hey, North, I’m sorry, I—”

“No, Markus, don’t even worry about it. I’m fine.”

“You’re not, though. Not if you’re upset like that?” Markus stood, making his way toward her with concern carved into his features.

“Look, Markus, what’s it going to take to wake you up again? I miss the Markus who  _fought_. I miss the Markus who took action. What’s it going to take for you to  _fight_ , Markus?! Finding out Simon’s out there dead? Would you hit back at them if  _he_  were hit? Hell, would you even care if  _I_  took a walk down the street and never came back? What is it going to take?”

“North, don’t even start with that.”

“ _Don’t start with that_?”

“You know how I feel about this. I’m not out to start a war because you know we’re outnumbered and outgunned. War isn’t the answer and you know it.”

“So what, we sit here and wait? Don’t you remember what you said to us when we met in Jericho? You told us that we had escaped one hell just to lock ourselves away in another. That’s what everyone liked back then, it was safe, it was quiet. Simon argued against us ever going out there because he preferred to hide. So now, what? Is that what we should do now? Just hide? Be…” North pitched a hairbrush across the room and it shattered a mirror, “…be fucking complacent?! Wait like dogs for our masters’ handouts? What fucking happened to you?!”

“North—”

“Don’t fucking try to argue your peace talk anymore, I’m done hearing it. I’m tired of waiting to find out the last PL600’s turned up dead. I’m tired of worrying about Simon and I’m tired of worrying about us.”

“You think I’m not fucking worried about him!?” Markus finally shouted, “I can’t force anyone to do anything!”

“Yes, you can!”

“If I force someone else’s actions, I’m no better than the people who forced us around!”

“Sometimes you have to make poor choices for the greater good.”

“That’s bullshit, North, that’s the easy way out.”

“Well, I’m about to find one way out. Have a good night, Markus.” North said, punctuating her words with a slammed door. With that, she was gone.

Alone, Markus groaned and leaned against the wall with a frustrated sigh. North was the last person he ever wanted to argue with, much less raise his voice at. Now she was out. Whatever  _they_  had once been had never quite been given a label, but he was certain at this point that perhaps it was better that way. Regardless, though, he didn’t want her to  _hate_  him.

Nor did he want to really admit that she may have been partly right.

He had stopped taking action and started playing the legal hoops game. He was good with words. He could spark speeches and stage peaceful protests with an army of androids, and as of late, even humans who wanted to stand in support. He wanted to believe that they could win this without shedding blood.

But the fact remained that he was running from the day he would learn that the last PL600 had been destroyed in some hate crime.

That Simon would never come back.

 _“Simon…”_  Markus breathed, trying not to think back to the ugly argument that had sent the android away.

 _Some way with words you have,_  Markus thought,  _first Simon and now North._

And what if, he mused, what if he  _did_  go find Simon and bring him back? He knew Simon well enough to know that Simon wouldn’t leave his side, even if he argued for it. Simon would be in the same line of fire Markus lived his daily life in. There had even been two assassination attempts already and it had only been two months since the armistice began.

Markus knew Simon was safer away from him.

But hell if each day since Simon left hurt more than the last.

_She’s right. You need to stop running away. Find him._

 

 


	3. past

# 04:06AM 

# NOVEMBER 24TH, 2038 

# NEW JERICHO, MI

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jericho was better without that monstrosity, Simon knew. In the myriad of brokered deals and legalese clauses littering the Android Personhood Bill, androids were permitted safehavens throughout the country. Simon knew that New Jericho was not the only to be stockpiling weaponry  _somewhere_  in the vicinity for the possibility of the armistice coming to a violent end.

Still. They never needed the dirty bomb. Not when they were at war and not now, when the war is on the brink of resolution.

“Simon… you know that North is right. We’re on the way to where we need to be, but she’s right when she says that there are people who want to take us down before we get there. We need to be able to… to at least protect ourselves.” Markus argued.

“What is a goddamn cobalt bomb going to protect us from, Markus? That thing isn’t to protect anyone, it’s to kill. It’s to destroy. It’s to entirely eradicate not just a set of humans, but entire generations of humans exposed to it, do you understand that?”

“You didn’t say a thing back when it was on the table as a last resort and now you’re arguing about it?”

 

 

“Maybe I should have. Maybe I was too damn afraid to speak up when I knew you would follow every other thing North said. I know she can be convincing, Markus, I've been in that place and I know better than to argue with her because there is no winning that fight. Not with North. She doesn’t back down. I’d have been the villain for saying that this… this is wrong. We don't need that thing anymore, not for the future we're fighting for.”

“So what, then? We just deliver it happily back to those humans and—”

Simon had to do a double-take to be sure he'd just heard the phrasing that had come out of Markus's mouth. Markus, who had only ever spoken to him positively of his time with Carl Manfred. Markus, who had fought for the revolution with the belief that there were  _more_  humans like Carl.

He had to admit, the entire conversation was becoming surreal.

“ **Those humans**? Do you hear yourself right now, Markus? You sound like North. No... no, you sound like how North  **wants**  you to sound.”

Then it came, the way it always did when Simon stepped too close to the sun. The narrowing of two, beautifully mismatched green and blue eyes. The clenching of fists and of one perfectly sculpted jaw. He'd hit a sensitive point in Markus. North was always a sensitive point for Markus.

“Simon, I’m going to give you one final warning about talking to me about North like she’s—”

“Spare it, Markus. I’m well aware of how you feel about people confronting the North issue. I’ve seen the reasonings you give the others and I’ve seen the way you defend North like she can say or do no wrong and I can’t just sit and say nothing anymore. I know you love… I know she’s important to you, but, Markus, you need to think about the consequences of North’s influence. She isn’t all bad, but she isn’t right, either.”

“Look, I’m sorry about the way things turned out. I… I love her, Simon. And she isn’t entirely wrong. She’s not unjustified. She’s right to feel the way she does.”

“Oh, no, I am well aware of how she feels. She and I have had that conversation a number of times in the past. You get to the part yet, where she says that the only good humans are  _dead_  humans? Because it gets to that point.”

“She wouldn’t… she’s never said anything like that and you know she wouldn’t.”

“Oh, do I know that? I don’t think you know her the way I do.”

“So is that what all this is, then? We’re sitting here arguing over a woman then?”

Silence fell over the two of them. Simon glanced sideward, unable to even look Markus in the eye under the boil of anger welling inside of him.  _Arguing over a woman?_  That couldn't possibly be how Markus simplifies this. Simon  _knew_  Markus... this whole conversation had to be at metaphorical gunpoint,  _or something._  He couldn't be sure he was even speaking to the same android at this point.

“Arguing over a woman…? I am actually impressed by you right now, Markus, at how incredibly dense you’re being and I want to believe that it’s intentional.”

“So it’s not about North.”

“No. It’s never been about North, Markus! Do not deflect the topic like I'm some kind of idiot!” Simon shouted.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“So… about… you and I?”

“Incredible. Absolutely incredible. To simplify it down to just that. But maybe that’s where all that beautiful idealism comes from, Markus, is how insufferably naïve you can be. I said nothing about keeping the artillery. I said nothing about stockpiling the weapons. I can get behind the idea that we need to be able to defend ourselves and that is a gamble I am willing to make. Where I draw the line, however, is at that goddamn bomb, Markus, and you want to try and look at this like I'm upset that it was North's call and not mine? I can’t tell if it’s a strategic deflection or if that’s truly your train of thought.”

“Simon, I’m sorry. I-I just… I don’t know how to respond to you, sometimes. You told me you were fine with this in the beginning. But now you’re not. What is it then, what is it that you want? To disagree with North because it’s North? Because of us? If there’s something you want to say about all of this, about this decision to armor ourselves, about this decision to walk out of New Jericho over it, hell, my decision about who I choose to be with, get it all out now, Simon, because I'm listening.”

 

 

“No, I’m going to stop you right there, Markus. You know I let it all go. I don’t like to waste the energy bickering. This is a piss-poor decision and I **know**  that you know this. You wanted my stance on the issue and I gave it to you and you know that Josh would have said the same thing I’m saying now. None of this was ever, ‘what does North think?’ it was ‘what do all of us think?’ I never wanted to step in it the way Josh always did, but he’s gone now and all I can do is remember the Jericho that Josh wanted for all of us. I… I am just so damned tired of fighting, Markus. I am so tired. All I ever wanted was just for all of this to go away. I don’t want to fight unless I have to. Even if I have to bite my tongue and suffer, I would rather suffer silently while those I love thrive than speak out of turn and have my tongue cut out by those with deaf ears.”

“I’m sorry, Simon, but I’m going to have to disagree. Please understand.”

Simon exhaled a tense breath, but clenched his fists. This was insane. This was a gamble that was going to destroy everything they'd worked for. Markus  _had to understand this_. How could he play stupid at a time like this?

Any respect he'd had for North had been obliterated in the recent weeks. Admittedly, in part due to his own petty jealousy, but the rest had been entirely in the way she seized command over New Jericho using Markus as a mouthpiece.

_What changed?_

“You’re not the Markus I remember. Don’t consult me about anything anymore. The fact that you’re willing to keep this thing here tells me enough about what you’ve become.”

“What’s that, huh?”

“Not far removed from the people who put us here. But I guess North's into that. Otherwise none of this would have even been a topic on the table.”

"The people who put us here, in this encampment, in New Jericho, these are the humans that are on  **our side** , Simon! We won’t have to use the dirty bomb ever if the other humans see that this is the way of our shared future. This is a  **stepping stone!**  But you know that this stone is fragile and there are so many humans out there who want it to crumble out from under us. I can’t let that happen.”

“So you suggest we hold human life at gunpoint, then? Until we get what we want? Did North teach you that?”

Markus thrust a fist into a nearby wall, cracking a hole straight through mildewed plywood.

 

 

"We do what we must until we get what we deserve!"

 

“No, that’s… that’s not the Markus I know. I don’t forgive the humans that have abused us, Markus, but you know… they are living beings, every bit as much as we are. Have you forgotten about the humans who loved us? The humans we’ve loved? Do they mean nothing anymore?”

“Those who want us dead don’t deserve that life, Simon. A world without peace can’t exist if we permit those who would snuff it out to grow and act out their aggressions on us or others like us.”

“This… this isn’t the Markus I followed. Regardless of who holds it, a gun to the head is still a hostage situation. I refuse. I will say it once more, Markus. If, in the event that this bomb is ignited in a city full of human beings, you understand that it will not affect us the way it affects them. It poisons them. It incinerates them from the inside out… and this goes beyond simply killing those who bruised us last, this goes on to affect their children, their grandchildren, generations not yet born or dreamt of. Innocent lives. This goes on to affect the earth itself, poisoning it not just for humans but for every other creature on this planet, and you mean to tell me that this is a viable option for our survival? Markus, this thing is a weapon for supremacy. Destroy it. Get rid of it. Wash our hands of it.”

“…I can’t do that, Simon. You know that without it, we could all die.”

“And so what, then, Markus? If we die, we take them with us? Is that what you mean to tell me?”

“…yeah.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because you always have more words than that, Markus. If that’s all you can say on the matter, then I doubt you truly believe that. You won’t argue it. Not beyond the reasonings she gave you. But… you know, don’t worry about arguing it. I’m done with this conversation. You’re the leader, you do what you have to do. I want nothing to do with it.”

“Simon…”

“Goodbye, Markus.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

>> Simon?   
  
  
>> Just give me a sign, anything?   
  
  
>> Please... 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

<<

 


	4. cemetary

# 08:05PM

# DECEMBER 31st, 2038

# DETROIT, MI

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Linden Wood Cemetary. A dug-up grave, the charred remains of a human inside of said grave, and a string of indiscernible code scrawled on the headstone.

An android surveyed the premises as per his function and Lt. Hank Anderson was, perhaps, the only authority on the scene with absolute trust in this android. The passing of the Android Personhood Bill in November had done a number on society—it was _the demand_ that President Warren had granted in the fallout after the Battle of Detroit. Due to recognized personhood of all androids, even in this climate of political armistice, an android such as Connor was, in a sense, able to return to his previous functions _only of his own free will_ and, of course, _at his own personal risk._

After all, there were still only scant laws in place to protect androids regardless of the personhood recognition. Accidents could happen. The last time Hank had ever had to be so protective of another person— _god, it was still so strange but right to say it—_ was when Cole was still around.

Connor had been allowed to return to society from his deviancy in New Jericho. Connor had been talked into literally “applying for the job” by Hank even after the events of the revolution. To Hank’s accurate read of the Captain and the rest of the PD, the truth was, they liked him. Even Gavin had, in his own brusque way, vouched for having “someone useful” back on the force.

The Captain had his own way of things and always had. Perhaps it was _this way_ of things that pushed the Captain to dig up an old detective like him and stick him in a knitted _get-along-sweater_ with Connor. Connor didn’t have to do much to prove to the Captain that as a person, he was a reliable and essential asset to the PD.

Once again, Connor had become Hank’s partner. A detective again. Back in the field and… honestly, still licking things. Regardless, Connor had become his responsibility.

Weird android shit aside, Hank mused, Connor was still _damn useful._ Real-time analysis of evidence through his tongue alone, visual cross-referencing through wireless eyeballs and who knows what the hell else the android could do—Hank was the first to argue that Connor was _useful_. If at least that.

Hank shook his head after taking a long drag from his cigarette. Connor looked down into the grave for a long time in silence before Hank said, “Don’t you dare try to lick that thing.”

Connor gave Hank an unimpressed look and made his way back to the headstone as Hank set out to examine the rest of the crime scene.

“Looks like this David Langdon wasn’t just a vocal anti-android activist on social media, but he was a pretty loud white nationalist, too. Wonder if anyone’s really gonna miss the prick.” Hank said, poring over data on a holotablet.

“Regardless, this still makes five with a pretty consistent M.O.” Connor said, recording the image of the code into his memory. After four similar cases prior, Connor still could not decipher the meaning or nature of the code. It seemed at first like a form of Android Psychology Tree script, but nothing about the syntax lined up. He considered various encryptions, but even then, he couldn’t find a point of reference to start with.

Connor mulled over what they knew thus far:

Victims one and two were a married couple, aged forty and forty-five, respectively. They were Meghan and Scott Woods and residents of the Oakfield Trailer Park several blocks away. They were also vocal anti-android activists with a hefty social media presence. They had come home one night to the killer waiting for them inside of their home wearing a ski mask. He killed Scott Woods with a blow to the head and restrained Meghan Woods with electrical cords.

A video had been uploaded from their social media accounts approximately thirty minutes after their home had been burned to the ground by natural gas combustion. The video showed Meghan Woods pleading with her killer for mercy as he wrote that same string of code on the walls behind them. Despite her pleading, the killer had all of approached their camera and stared directly at it before shutting it off.

The intent had been for the message to be seen.

Connor could not yet figure out what had driven the killer to cut out the tongues of both Scott and Meghan Wood before setting them aflame.

“Same message as in the video and the other locations?” Hank asked.

Connor nodded, “Same message. Anyone find the tongue on this one?”

Hank shook his head, “Wasn’t in the victim’s hand this time.”

“Burgess’s wasn’t found, either.” Connor muttered, thinking back on the third victim found hanged and burned in Balduck Park. The same script had been carved into the tree.

The fourth victim had been immolated in his vehicle after having his tongue cut out as well and then placed in his own hands. Victim four had also been a vocal supporter of the so-called ‘#ShutThemDown’ movement.

“So Langdon was reported missing about sixteen hours ago by the wife. She said she’d waited for him to come home after working the graveyard shift at the shipyards and just never showed. Waited a day or two before making the report. We’ve ruled her out, obviously. Not unless she’s got excellent penmanship.” Hank said, poring over the tablet, “…this means if he got picked up from around there, the killer had to have dragged this guy’s ass here in a vehicle. Otherwise they must have met somewhere around here… no sign of Langdon’s vehicle anywhere.”

“Likely stolen.” Connor suggested, “Record of past assaults on androids?”

“Got a couple incidents back in September. Looks like the guy was real active online after the Phillips case.”

Connor sighed—he often wondered how much of this would have happened had things been different with the Phillips case.

Hank had paused at the sound of Connor’s slow breath. Hank looked at him for a moment before continuing, “…you know what you were saying about the last code we found? That the script was almost like android hand but not quite? Just not quite perfect enough?”

“Variables in line height, character width, yes. Unstable linework. A shaking hand.”

“Android hands don’t shake, you know. You think this could all just be a human trying to pin it on an android?”

Connor shook his head, “If so, that may explain the difference between some victims being found with their tongues placed nearby and others with their tongues missing. An unsettling variable, maybe, but if we’re considering the possibility of two killers, the tongues may be a smoking gun for that argument.”

“Do you believe it?”

Connor considered it for a beat before shaking his head, “No… as much as I don’t want to, I _do_ believe it’s an android… and not a healthy one, either. The script is getting more inconsistent. The hand is shaking more each time.”

Hank looked over the crime scene once again. Little sign of a struggle. Implication that the victim may have already been dead upon arrival in the cemetery. A fire was spotted by the staff of a not-too-far-away funeral home and called in, leading them to this.

 

 

“What would cause an android’s hand to shake?” Hank asked.

Connor shook his head, “I’m not sure. We don’t get sick nor do we suffer neurological disorders or deterioration. Physical trauma to the nerve network could perhaps contribute to it, but the chance of surviving a blow that would affect these systems is low. An android would more likely be deactivated by system failure than continue active with deteriorating systems.”

“There was sign of a struggle with the Burgess case. The only other one we couldn’t find the tongue for. I’m telling you, Connor. Two different guys.”

“I’m thinking inconsistencies. Whether or not the inconsistences are intentional, I couldn’t say. Not yet.” 


	5. fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I figured out how to get anchors to work in AO3, so we'll at least be able to have dialogue options! So yeah, get ready for dialogue options!

 

 

 

# 10:31PM

# DECEMBER 31st, 2038

# RIVERSIDE PARK, DETROIT, MI

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Markus had glimpsed an image in his mind earlier that afternoon. An image of fireworks bursting with colors over a deep, black river. Along with this image was the sight of a hedge maze covered in snow. He saw this through Simon’s eyes, he was certain. A memory of a place. A very old memory. Simon shared this memory with him once before.

His search for Simon had brought him to the Riverside Park.

People were gathered on the green, having drinks and partying to a DJ blaring hypnotic beats on a nearby stage. Markus knew Simon would be far from this. Far from crowds. Markus glanced around, keeping his head low and his hood up.

He spotted a familiar sight across the way, in a largely-ignored part of the park. A large hedge maze crafted of rosebushes. The maze ran along the waterfront. He could recall from Simon’s memory that the maze led off into small compartments at the water’s edge where people often sat on benches and watched the river in quiet solitude.

Markus stepped into the labyrinth of hedges and took in the cold air. Snow was still falling in soft, sparse waves. Against the pitch black sky, the snowy hedges and trails were glowed a harsh white. Markus saw footprints in the snow and followed.

He wandered the maze for several minutes, following the footprints until he reached a clearing at the heart of the hedges. Roses were blooming. A fountain bearing the image of an angel stood frozen in the center.

 

 

**OBSERVE FOUNTAIN?**

[△]Observe

[☐]Ignore

 

Markus stood and took one last look at the statue before setting back on his course to find Simon. The footprints seemed to end there and several paths worked their way out of the atrium in the maze’s center. He’d have to choose one to follow.

[FORWARD]

[△] Observe

Markus approached the statue with mild curiosity, wondering if it had been Carl’s work. It looked familiar enough…

Markus dusted away some snow on the panel and felt a warm smile cross his face as he saw the name of the artist— _Carl Manfred._

At that moment, he could only remember one odd memory with Carl. He had been cleaning the studio and shifting some old, dusty sculptures. He dropped a box in the process that kicked up a veritable hurricane of decades-old dust. For the first time in his life, Markus sneezed.

When he looked back at Carl, he noted that the man’s expression was one of utter awe and amusement.

“What?” Markus had asked.

Carl began to laugh, “Never thought in my life I’d see an android sneeze.”

“…I’m not sure I needed to. Maybe I did. I guess I wouldn’t want dust up there.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Not many people would. My god,” Carl had chuckled, “…can’t believe it. An android sneezed.”

“Is it really that special?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Guess it just reminds me of… well.” Carl’s brushstrokes stilled on a wet oil painting. He glanced distantly out the window and then said, “…the first time I saw Leo sneeze. I never held babies or spent much time around them. I was an only child. No baby cousins growing up. Never changed a diaper in my life until my boy was born. Holding him in my arms that day, it never occurred to me that everyone sneezes for the first time. Even androids.”

“Well, you’re about to hear a whole lot of it,” Markus said before sneezing again.

Carl laughed, “You’re gonna blow off your LED, son. Go grab yourself a tissue and get some air, we’ll tend to that dusty mess later.”

Markus’s warm memory grew cold as a tide washed in—the reality that Carl was gone. Carl had been gone for some time now.

Markus stood and took one last look at the statue before setting back on his course to find Simon. The footprints seemed to end there and several paths worked their way out of the atrium in the maze’s center. He’d have to choose one to follow.

[FORWARD]

The paths leading toward the water’s edge seemed most likely to lead him to Simon. He recalled specific view of the sky, of a bridge in the distance. He had to find the place where he would see that view. Several more minutes of wandering lead him to one small sitting area with a bench. Empty, however. Markus pressed onward, beginning to feel a sense of _something_ welling inside of him. 

Something like energy, some kind of vibration both good and bad. Perhaps at another time he may have called it fear. Fear and elation. The sensation he’d felt the first time North kissed him. 

He was feeling _that_ now. Markus slowed, glancing down at the ground. As he turned one final corner, he came upon another sitting area. On a bench, Simon sat gazing up at the sky. Markus wasn’t sure if he was still breathing at that moment, not that he needed to breathe in the first place. 

As Markus neared, Simon turned his head ever so slightly. 

“Simon? It’s just me.” Markus said. 

The tension in Simon’s shoulders seemed to ease. Simon looked back at the sky, saying nothing. Soon, however, he lowered his head. Markus made his way closer, eying Simon carefully. 

“Simon…?” 

Simon sighed, long and steady, before answering pleasantly, “Hello, Markus.” 

Markus took a seat beside Simon. The android’s face was obscured by the thick fur lining the hood of a dark green parka. For a long time, they sat in silence. 

“I’ve… been really worried about you. I’m glad you’re alright.” Markus finally spoke. “You know, coming out here’s pretty reckless. Did you see how many humans are over there partying? What if any of them saw you and…?” 

“I don’t mind the risk these days. I just wanted to watch the fireworks.” 

Simon seemed distracted and quieter than usual. Something was wrong, but Markus wouldn’t bet on Simon telling him a thing about his feelings after the last time they spoke. 

[FORWARD]

**TALK TO SIMON**  
[△] Risky Behavior  
[☐] Fireworks  
[✕] Joke

“Are fireworks really that special?” 

“Oh, yes.” Simon said softly, “…in the deafening bursts and lights, for just a few seconds, I can be somewhere else. Somewhere from a long, long time ago.” 

“What happened back then?” 

Markus glimpsed the slightest quiver in Simon’s lips as silence fell over him. Maybe that wasn’t the right thing to ask. 

Markus tried again, “…Carl and I used to watch fireworks sometimes. But not often. He wasn’t very enthusiastic about the noise. Still, he brought me out to a park one year and said I had to see them. I didn’t get what the craze was all about until I saw them. I was really glad Carl brought me out there. Even if he had kind of a miserable time, he said he just wanted me to know what it was like.” 

Simon had begun to smile, just slightly. 

Finally, Simon spoke. 

“His… his name was Micah. The man I… the man who owned me. He loved fireworks. Fourth of July. New Years.” Simon laughed quietly and added, “…baseball games. Micah hated baseball. But he enjoyed being out and around people. He enjoyed lights and music. Fireworks.” 

[FORWARD]

“Why are you out here risking your life like this?” 

Simon responded with silence. 

Markus explained, “I’ve been really worried about you. I mean… all I can do every morning is wake up and hope you’ve said something, _anything_ to tell me you’re still alive.” 

“Sorry to worry you.” Came Simon’s flat response. 

“Are you _really_? Sitting out here so close to where you could be killed?” 

“Don’t lecture me, Markus.” 

“I’m not… I just—” 

Simon cast Markus the darkest glare he’d ever seen from the normally placid and pleasant man. Markus sighed and gave up prodding. Simon was clearly aware that his risky behavior raised a number of red flags. All of which he was clearly uninterested in confronting at that moment. 

[BACK]

Markus tried to lighten the somber mood. 

Markus sighed and glanced sideward for a beat, before saying, “Two toasters are sitting on a counter. One toaster says to the other, _Do you sometimes feel empty?_ ” 

Simon looked at Markus and squinted. 

Markus continued, “The other toaster says, _Oh my god… a talking toaster…!”_

Simon continued to squint. When his eyes fell back on the river, a small smile was forming at the corner of his mouth. 

“Wow.” Simon said. 

“Carl told me that once.” 

Simon chewed at his lower lip, staring pensively at the water. He then said, “…I hope Carl gave you more jokes than that.” 

“Was it that bad?” 

“It wasn’t _that_ bad.” 

“You got something better?” Markus challenged. 

“What would one light switch say to the other?” 

“…something about turning it on, probably? Or, wait. I think I’ve heard this. Something about seeing the light, right?” Markus asked. 

“It could say that. It could say nothing.” Simon’s calm voice came with a shrug, “A light switch could go either way.” 

“Oh. _Ohh…”_ Markus said, glancing out toward the river. 

“Did a _light_ _go off_ in your head?” Simon prodded. 

“Oh my god… it doesn’t stop.” 

“Kind of a _turn-on_.” 

“No…” 

[BACK]

**TALK TO SIMON**  
[△] Micah?  
[☐] Jealous  
[✕] Show Me

“Micah?” 

Simon said nothing despite Markus’s prompting. He tried again, “…what… what was Micah like?” 

“Kind. He was everything to me.” 

“What happened to Micah?” Markus asked, “…if he meant that much to you, how did you wind up in Jericho?” 

“I chose to leave.” Simon laughed quietly and added, “It was silly of me. To think a human would settle for a plastic lover. Not when the world is filled with the real thing. Micah found someone who made him happy… and if Micah was happy, I was happy. But… maybe I’m just selfish. Maybe I’m a coward.” 

Simon drew in a quaking breath before he continued. “He left the home often. Long business trips and the like. I used to accompany him, acting as an assistant. Eventually, however, he began to leave without me. Sometimes he would be gone for weeks at a time. I… soon learned that I stayed behind because I had been replaced. He was happier than I’d ever seen him.” 

Simon finally looked at Markus with traces of that weak smile as he said, “I will be the first to admit that… I do not take rejection very well.” 

“I don’t think anyone’s an expert at it.” Markus reassured. 

[FORWARD]

Markus felt a pang of _something_ at the thought of Simon with someone. That had been unexpected. As hypocritical as it was, Markus found himself even just a little bit jealous to learn that there had been someone so special in Simon’s heart _already_. 

Maybe he’d overestimated how much he meant to Simon. 

“Hm.” Markus said. 

“You seem bothered by that.” 

“I’m not. Why would that bother me?” 

Simon eyed Markus carefully in silence before looking back to the dark surface of the water. 

“I just… I guess I hadn’t imagined you with someone before. A human, no less. You seem kind of. I don’t know. Something.” 

“Something.” Simon repeated, a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Something.” Markus said. 

“Is that a good something?” 

“I don’t know. It’s something like… I don’t know. Something.” 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at such a loss for words. Interesting.” Simon said. 

“What?” Markus scoffed, “I’m not at a loss for words.” 

“You really couldn’t imagine me in relationships?” Simon asked with a hint of disbelief in his voice, “I can’t possibly come off like a nun.” 

“No, I didn’t mean that, I just, I don’t know. You seem… like if you loved someone, you’d still be with that person.” 

“Ah. I guess that makes sense.” Simon said. 

“But I mean, I guess I’m wrong.” 

“Yeah.” 

_Yeah?_ Markus raised one brow, side-eying Simon. Just how many past loves has cupid here had? Why did this whole idea of Simon loving someone else bother him so much? 

[BACK]

Simon stared down at one hand for a moment. Markus felt a sense of consideration in that gesture. Simon was thinking about something. _Showing him_. 

Markus extended one hand, “…show me?” 

But before he could speak, Simon’s hand fell back to his side and melancholy fell back over him. 

“I can’t.” 

Markus was hurt by that response, but he opted not to probe so deeply. Doing so only seemed to upset Simon. 

[BACK]

Markus chuckled and nodded, “…it wasn’t just you. You had a good reason to leave. I wasn’t thinking with my head. In hindsight, giving North that much say was putting power in… unnecessarily aggressive hands.” 

Simon was silent for quite a while before he finally said, “…you love her, though. That’s what you do when you love someone. You stand by them, even if they’re leading you to your very death. I’m sorry I… became such an ass after the two of you… after letting my jealousy get in the way. I’m sorry.” 

“ _I’m_ sorry. I’d never seen you mad before. I felt like such an asshole for twisting it around into something petty like that. I know you were telling the truth. You were against the whole thing because you cared more about everyone than you did about dying like some kind of victor. No… I… I see your point now and I think I always did. I just… I just didn’t want North to… I guess, what I mean is, the way I handled all of that was a projection if I’d ever seen one.” 

A faint smile crossed Simon’s face and the softest chuckle escaped him. He gave Markus a look that Markus could only read as, _no shit?_

Simon shook his head, “Don’t. You know I was saying all sorts of horrible things about North just before I stormed out and we had that yelling match. North didn’t deserve any of that. She’s… none of the things I said she was, I just… I get stupid when I’m in pain. I just claw so desperately for anything to make myself feel better, even at the expense of the people I love most. I… am a bit selfish. I think.” 

“You’re not selfish, Simon.” Markus said. 

Silence fell over the two of them. A cold breeze blew, carrying the scent of the river and the alcohol of the party no more than half a mile away. The music in the distance was a muffled beat of electronic basslines and hypnotic rhythm that meant little to him. People screamed and cheered over something inconsequential to the world surrounding the party. 

Simon was still quiet. Markus debated what to say next. He could probe for more answers—but Markus knew that he already had the answers to all of the questions. Truth be told, he’d known from the moment he gave in to North’s first kiss that Simon would _be hurt_. At the time, he wasn’t quite sure why. There was only a feeling, lingering under Markus’s lips while pressed against North’s. A feeling that he would see Simon again and that something would have changed. 

It had taken him longer to realize what Simon’s silence and awkward, distant glances really meant. It would be too late before he realized that the sadness in Simon’s eyes when they were close stemmed from the same feelings that brought North that sparkle of elation and strength in hers. 

Part of him had always wondered how different things had been if he’d just _waited_. 

[FORWARD]

**TALK TO SIMON**  
[△] Stratford Tower  
[☐] Confusion

“Back at the Stratford Tower, I…” Markus began, before hearing Simon suck in a breath. Markus glanced over and saw Simon quietly shaking his head. _Was he rolling his eyes? What the hell._

“Or… you know. Nevermind, I guess—” 

“No. Go on.” 

Markus looked at Simon carefully, still unsure of whether or not Simon was simply allowing him to go on to be a people-pleaser or because he genuinely wanted to hear what Markus wanted to say. He knew that look well enough to know it was how Simon said, without words, _you can speak but I still think you’re a jackass._

North got that look out of Simon a lot. She never noticed, Markus was pretty sure. 

“Do you want me to?” 

Simon bit his lower lip subtly and then nodded, “…yeah.” 

“When I… left you at the Stratford Tower, I… wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again. My head was so full of some of the worst emotions I’d ever felt in my life. I was so angry. Angry with myself. Angry I couldn’t save you. When we returned to Jericho, without you, I felt like an imposter. Everyone was looking to me for answers and guidance and all I could think about was how I _failed_ you. How I _left_ you. I wasn’t a leader. I wasn’t even a protector to someone I…” Markus sucked in a breath and hesitated. 

Clearing his throat, Markus went on, “I… I was desperate for something, anything to just take my mind off of all the things that could’ve went wrong if I never saw you again. North was there for me. North took my mind off of… the fact that I still had so many questions about _you_. Questions I might never get answers to. North answered one of those questions for me. I guess I just took it and ran with it. Desperate to feel anything other than how wretched I felt at that moment. I took the easy way out and at the time, it felt like, maybe that was the answer. It felt good. I thought it felt right. But then you came back. You didn’t say a thing to me. But you still forgave me… and I don’t think I deserved that. You still stuck it out with me, no matter what stupid decisions I made. Even when you saw North and I together, you still, you acted like nothing had changed.” 

“It didn’t.” Simon said, “Nothing ever changed.” 

“Should it have?” 

“Maybe in someone with more important things on their mind.” 

Markus half-laughed, “I can always count on you for the vote of confidence.” 

“Always.” 

[BACK]

Markus bit his lower lip for a second and then said, “…I’m still new to this whole love thing. I feel like when I follow it, I make poor choices. If I pursue it, I hurt someone I care about. Does it ever make sense?” 

Simon shook his head with a quiet answer, “No.” 

Markus took a breath, getting the sense that the wound had not yet healed in Simon. Not at all. He hadn’t been entirely oblivious to the meanings behind some of the things Simon had said and done in the past. Simon had felt for him the same way North did. Markus would have been lying to himself if he said he didn’t feel the same way. Perhaps even moreso for Simon than North. But at the time, North and her surface-level intensity seemed predictable. Safe. Understandable. 

Simon, on the other hand, was quiet and difficult to read. He seemed so placid on the surface until he’d say or do something so overly intense and romantic that Markus couldn’t be sure what he’d been feeling in response. The line between fear and limerence was thin and blurry. 

“Is it this confusing for you, too?” 

Again, Simon quietly answered, “No. I am… painfully aware of what I want most. It doesn’t stop.” 

“Is it always like this? With Micah, was it like this?” 

“It only gets worse every time.” 

Markus reached for Simon’s hand and took it gently in his own. Artificial skin retracted and through a blue, electric glow beneath the surface of their synthetic fingertips, they both felt a sense of calm before a storm. 

“Will you show me?” Markus asked. 

[FORWARD]

Simon was looking down at their hands. He nodded. 

The feelings the filtered into Markus’s mind were so intense that felt he could drown beneath the sensations. Overwhelming. Suffocating, even. Happiness, elation, euphoria at the sight of Micah Nguyen smiling at him. Markus noted the way tiny lines formed at the corners of Micah’s eyes and the birthmark just above his left collarbone. Markus saw moments of innocent, shared happiness and jokes only they knew with one another and he saw moments of lust that made his time with North pale in comparison. 

He saw Micah’s excitement at fireworks and he saw Micah at his lowest, drunk on a bottle and a half of red wine and crying against Simon’s chest. Micah cried often. He self-medicated with alcohol, hardly being one to compromise his medical career by outing his own poor mental health. 

_He was lonely. All the time. Even with me. I could never, I—I could never be enough for him._

Markus saw Micah with the only glimpse of the other man Simon had stolen. A kind-faced man with shaggy blonde hair and grey eyes. The man had smiled at Simon, unaware of the relationship Micah had shared with his android. They had been leaving to catch a flight to _somewhere_. Micah had never told Simon. But it was the last time Micah had left him. 

_He left me alone._

Smashed wine bottles. 

Broken mirrors. 

Blue blood on Simon’s knuckles. 

“He left me.” Simon breathed aloud. 

“Simon… I’m sorry.” Markus said. “Did… you ever see him again after that?” 

“I saw him once a few weeks before you arrived in Jericho,” Simon confessed. “Josh and I were looking for an android who sought out help across town. We were going to help her. On the way, while blending in with a few other androids in the street, I saw him. Micah looked at me for a long time. I just stared straight ahead like I didn’t know him. He said my name. I kept walking.” 

Silence fell over them. Simon sighed and pulled his hand from Markus’s. 

“What you felt, that was… really intense.” Markus said. “Is that love? What love really feels like?” 

“I can only hope it’s no worse than that.” Simon chuckled, “Otherwise I might lose my damned mind the next time it happens.” 

“I thought North’s feelings were fierce. I guess it was just North, though. We never should’ve escalated things like that. She was a good friend. A better friend than a lover… and now I’ve fucked all that up. Now, I doubt she even wants to be friends. Hell. Allies, even.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m worried she’s going to try and split Jericho. She’s mentioned it a couple times before, but… now, I think she might just be pissed enough to do it.” 

Simon gazed out, distantly. “I’m entirely unsurprised by that. North and I would always butt heads over how to tackle Jericho’s problems. Rarely did we come to any sort of agreement.” 

“Jericho might have fallen apart if we did everything the way North pushed for.” 

“I’m sure, in some timeline, this can be verified.” Simon sighed. 

[FORWARD]

A thunderous burst startled them out of their reverie as blue and white lights illuminated the waterfront. They had completely missed the countdown over in the park. Fireworks were going off around the city. 2039 was being rung in with riotous cheer. 

Simon looked up at the lights, mesmerized and grinning in a way that Markus could only describe as boyish. He hadn’t seen Simon this happy, perhaps ever. Despite the painful memories attached to Micah, Simon clearly enjoyed fireworks enough on his own. 

_I want to see you smile like that more._

Simon looked at him. 

Markus leaned in and pressed his lips to Simon’s. He could feel Simon suck in a startled breath before easing into the kiss like ice melting under fire. Chaste at first, then growing in fervor as Simon fell into Markus’s arms. 

“Wow…” Markus sighed. 

“What?” Simon’s breath came. 

“You’re… just more aggressive than I expected.” 

Simon smirked and glanced sideward, “Do I look gentle to you?” 

“Yeah, a bit.” 

Simon laughed. Markus wanted this moment to go on forever. 

“Do you want me to be? Gentle?” 

“I want you to be you. Surprise me.” 

Simon nodded, before carefully adding, “…then… tell me if it’s too much.” 

“What if I want to know what _too much_ is?” 

“I guess… don’t stop me, then.” 

Markus was all of _pulled_ into a kiss again, more feverish than the last. Simon kissed and he kissed hard. Markus met it with the amusement and thrill of a challenge. Fists closed around gathered clothing and before they knew it, their bodies were pressed together in an increasingly heated tangle against the bench. By the time Markus broke that kiss, his lips tingled from all the pleasurable abuse. He was sure he’d felt synthetic skin retract from the intensity of their friction and the feeling of the skin coloring back over his lips and jaw confirmed it. Simon was already marking his neck with exploratory kisses and the beginnings of bites as Markus sighed, “Come back with me.” 

“I can’t.” 

“Come back to New Jericho with me. Please.” 

Simon’s lips slowed to a stop against Markus’s neck. He pressed his forehead against Markus’s shoulder and answered. “I’m afraid.” 

Markus held Simon, his every sense taking in the feeling of _Simon_ in his arms, his weight against his body. Artificial breaths hot against his neck. Simon’s soft, blonde hair tickled against Markus’s cheek. A hand reached up and stroked Simon’s hair with the faintest caress. Everything about this felt so different from North. It felt _right_. It felt like something he’d _waited_ for, _longed_ for. 

“Why? What’s there to be afraid of?” 

“I just don’t want this to end. I don’t want to leave this moment and… never be able to come back to this.” 

“Simon, you’ll always be able to come back to _this_. I’m done running away from _this_. I’m done being the coward. I’m done leaving you behind. I swear it, I’ll never leave you again.” 

“Please… don’t say that if it isn’t true.” Simon said. 

Markus wrapped his arms around Simon even tighter. 

“I’ll just keep saying it, over and over again, until you believe me. I’m not leaving you again. I’m never leaving you, ever. I know what all of this really means, now. I love you, Simon.” 

As Simon fell silent, Markus moved to caress Simon’s cheek and then lift his face. Mismatched green and blue eyes met intensely with Simon’s grey eyes. Simon looked back at him for only a moment before averting his gaze. The skin on his face was tinted with an intensely scarlet artificial blush response that reached all the way to the tips of his ears. Markus wasn’t quite sure how to read Simon yet, even after all of this. At one moment, Simon could be pinning him down and carving his desire into his very bones and not a heartbeat later, Simon was like this—vulnerable. Afraid. Maybe it was being unable to tell what would come next that filled him with a sort of excitement and curiosity he’d not known before. 

“Come back with me. Please, Simon.” 

“…alright.” Simon finally answered. 

Markus smiled—for the first time in months, he felt truly _happy_ again. 

“But I’m not done yet.” Simon all of tackled Markus with more kisses against his neck. Markus’s hand slipped from the bench in surprise as Simon moved over him with his full weight. They collapsed together into the snow. 

[FORWARD]

# CHAPTER FIVE END

[ [Δ] ░░░░░░](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7at110cEohs)  
  
  
  


 

 

 


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